I’m helping a client design a website. We’re choosing fonts.
Client: “That font right there! It’s clean yet edgy. There’s no way I’ve seen that font before; I would’ve remembered! What font is that?”
Me: “Arial.”
I’m creating a new design for a client’s website. After the third round of changes, the client is happy and approves our new design. We code it and send the URL over for approval before launching.
Client: “Hmm. Looks all right. But could you try the logo a bit smaller and in the center?”
Me: “Sure, like this?”
Client: “Yeah, no, that didn’t look as good as I thought. Change it back. And could you try the sidebar in darker purple?”
Me: “Sure, like this?”
Client: “Yeah, like that! But now the content boxes look a bit bleak. Could you make them stand out more?”
And so on. This goes on for about seven rounds of editing (and about seven times I manage to talk them out of something). We get closer and closer to the original, until:
Me: “Look, you approved the design. Any changes are heaps easier to do in Photoshop than on the actual site with code. What are we doing here?”
Client: “Oh, sorry. I’m used to working this way. By the way, I talked to our AD and he had some good points. I’ll send them over.”
I receive a PowerPoint that’s similar to our first design but requires fresh coding and work. The back and forth occurs five more times.
Me: “All right. Like that?”
Client: “Yeah, that’s good enough, I guess. But we decided to postpone the launch until after summer, so just save it somewhere and we’ll pick this up in August or something. I trust you won’t invoice us since you haven’t delivered anything yet.”
I am helping a client with a design.
Client: “I don’t know… I don’t like the blue and white together.”
Me: “What’s the problem with the colors?”
Client: “It looks Argentinean.”
Me: “So?”
Client: “The new Pope is Argentinean and we are not a religious firm. So, please, change all the colors.”
Client: “I thought you said the website was friendly.”
Me: “It is. What issues did you experience?”
Client: “I typed in my password and I got the error. “Access Denied. Wrong Password”.”
Me: “If you would like, I can give you your username and password.”
Client: “A friendly website would’ve given me my password.”
Me: “Did you click on “Forgot my Password”?”
Client: “No, I didn’t forget it.”
An hour later, I got an email from the client telling me he forgot his password. He was wondering if there was a recovery system in place.
I’m a programmer from France, and at the beginning of this story I am living in the UK. One day, my mom, who works in the town hall of a little village in France, tells me about a man who posted an announcement for a “web admin who can use [Technology].” My grandparents and mother know him; he is in charge of the local movie association. The village is too little to have his own movie theater, so this man decided to display movies in the church once or twice a week. He is in his fifties or something and lost his son to cancer last year.
I’ve never used [Technology], but I think I could give it a try, and I call the man.
Man: “Hi, thanks for helping me. You know, it’s my son that created the website, but now, I need to add something to it, and obviously, I can’t do it on my own.”
He gives me the technical details, and I work on it over the weekend. It’s not really hard to do, but I’ve never worked with this and I’m picking up work from someone else. The son did leave some documentation on the website. Yes, programmer folks, he left documentation for his side project.
I manage to do it and call the man back. He thanks me profusely.
Man: “You know, this website, that’s kind of the last thing I got from my son. I would have been so sad to let it go and not update it. Thanks again. We’re going to open a bottle of champagne with my wife!”
It’s clear that he has tears in his eyes, and I have some, too, of course.
Me: “Yes, it was not a big deal, really. I was happy to help!”
Two days later, my mom sends me a picture of a 100€ bill.
Mom: “He came by the town hall this morning and left that for you. I told him it was too much but he insisted.”
I was not expecting any payment at all, so that was really nice of him!
Fast forward six months. I come back to France, and the man asks for my help another time, which I gladly accept. I invite him to come to my grandparents’ house so we can finally meet in person. Before coming, he sends me a text.
Man: “Hi! Sorry if it seems inappropriate, but what is your birth year?”
I answered, and he and his wife arrived at our home a few hours later with a bottle of wine dated from my birth year! We talked, I helped him, and it was really nice to meet them both.
This story is part of our Feel Good roundup for February 2021!
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Read the Feel Good roundup for February 2021!
